


hanging onto the raggedy edge

by lingeringdust



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingeringdust/pseuds/lingeringdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Serenity. In the aftermath of Wash's death, Zoe visits Inara in her old shuttle. Non-explicit sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hanging onto the raggedy edge

Zoe is strong.

Inara spends the rest of her day refurbishing her own shuttle. While the interior leaves much to be desired, (the plain and gray heavy metal lining the walls that exude a coldness sends shivers down her spine), she’s managed to hang a few of her favorite draperies up. The rich red color sends a pleasant contrast among the gray and it almost feels like it was the nine of them on Serenity again.

The pot of tea she had been heating up begins boiling and she walks over to it, allowing it to taper off into a slow simmer. She chooses a bittersweet tea, something with a more Asianistic blend that she has a fondness for and cheers her up when she’s feeling down. The scent of her tea wafts up towards her nose; she closes her eyes, allowing it to fill her senses.

Her curtains rustle. Inara can feel the vibrations of footsteps, heavy and tapping. It couldn’t be River then, who always walked around in bare feet, or Simon Tam, who always wore proper shoes—and on the rare occasions, socks. No, Inara thinks and sips lightly at her tea, it was more likely to be Zoe.

She opens her eyes. Zoe is lingering by the entrance, fidgeting slightly. Her eyes are swollen and rimmed with the sadness of a widow. One of her arms hangs onto the doorway of the shuttle and the other, rubs absently at her stomach.

“Hello Zoe,” Inara greets, “please, sit.”

Zoe toes off her heavy combat boots without another word and steps in. Her usually purposeful steps are lined with wariness and grief. She sits next to Inara just as Inara pours another cup, pushing it towards her.

“Drink,” Inara says, “it’ll help.”

There’s no question as to what Inara means. Zoe picks up the cup and drinks half of it, despite the burning heat of the liquid.

When Zoe is finally settled, Inara leans closer to Zoe’s space and says, “you don’t have to hold it in.”

“I didn’t,” Zoe answers, voice clipped and sharp, obviously referring to her swollen eyes.

Inara moves back.

I only meant that you shouldn’t have to keep holing yourself up in your room, trying and fighting the memories, she thinks. She offers more tea.

Zoe declines.

They sit in silence. Inara doesn’t want to push; Zoe is hurt and grieving. And it probably won’t be like the other times when Wash was also—

Zoe finally allows her head to slip onto Inara’s shoulder. Without thinking, Inara’s hand reaches up and strokes Zoe’s long curls.

“It’s okay,” she says.

Something wet slides down onto her thighs. Inara ignores it, shifting so that she can see Zoe. She cups her cheeks and presses their foreheads together.

Zoe’s arms come up and wrap around Inara, pulling her tight to her chest, head slipping down to her shoulders once more. Dry sobs heave out as Zoe’s body shakes with every motion. Inara presses her mouth against the crook of Zoe’s shoulder and neck.

“Let it out, just let it out.”

Suddenly, Zoe moves up, eyes hard and filled with something Inara can’t quite recognize. Without warning, Zoe leans forward and presses her lips—chapped, hard, rough—against Inara’s.

She kisses back.

Arms travel down bodies, kisses trailing down from neck to shoulder, shoulder to everywhere. Inara has to break off for a moment in order to shut her shuttle door and lock it before they touch each other again.

Zoe is desperate. There’s something in the way she rolls her hips, the way she presses kisses in Inara’s inner thigh, and the way she presses her breasts against breasts that show her hunger.

Inara touches her everywhere; fingers ghosting over her dark skin, lightly skimming the surface, brief, breathless kisses that leave Zoe gasping. Inara’s hand moves down, past dark curls, and—

She brings Zoe to rest.

They lay together afterwards. She faces Zoe's back because she knows Zoe doesn’t want to see her, knows that Zoe is expecting someone else. But she still allows Zoe to lay her head against Inara’s naked breasts.

Later, Zoe whispers two words into the dark.

“Thank you.”

Inara closes her eyes and squeezes Zoe’s shoulder in reply.

Zoe is strong.


End file.
